


Hate Date

by EmeraldsAndAmethyst



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Pitch Ship, Spades Ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 10:57:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13680306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldsAndAmethyst/pseuds/EmeraldsAndAmethyst
Summary: A gift fic for the Midnight Crew Valentine's day swap! Hope you enjoy it BQ!





	Hate Date

You are Kankri Vantas. The Vantas is something you took from your descendant-ancestor (you hate the term dancestor, completely platonically of course) Something you feel compelled to clarify (hiding the truth from yourself is both cowardly and pointless). Your friends (because you of course are Beforan not Alternian and have a relatively healthy appreciation of friendship) all called you Signless for your lack of (known) ancestor. And lack of sign. You only think it’s fitting that you steal your Alternian self’s surname since his ability (your class combined with your aspect, you think) to remember Beforus was due to your existence anyways. 

 

Oh, look at you, talking to yourself, in your head, where trolls (and humans and cherubs and various other species you don’t know about you suppose) are supposed to talk to themselves. You’ve gotten distracted. And it seems that in your distraction your hated rival has arrived. 

 

Your blood pusher is filled with hatred so black it’s nearly painful. His stupid silhouette is far away (though that means nothing here in the dream bubbles) you squirm uncomfortably and remind yourself of your post death vow of celibacy. It had been very important at the time you made it. Even if you technically have no blood pusher these days, the sight of his horns does  _ things _ to it all the same.

 

You don’t try and avoid him, the dream bubbles seem to do whatever he wants. And if he wants you they’ll find you for him. You stand up and try to look put together. After all,  _ you _ aren’t a clown worshipping piece of trash. You immediately feel guilty for even thinking that and internally apologize to trash, it at least does something. 

 

“Well. I have never had to wait so long for such-” You start in on your usual, well, banter requires that Kurloz do something besides smile benignly and sign agreeably at you while you. Well. You are most definitely not having a  _ feelings jam _ with him. Despite your vacillating mess of emotions you do have boundaries. And even if you privately think you’d make a  _ much _ better moirail than he would you  _ try _ to keep yourself in check, “and really, must you remain so  _ calm _ all the time? I find it very upsetting that a Rage player isn’t-” 

 

He slaps at your gesturing hand, claws scratching just the right amount on your skin. You feel your cheeks heating at such a caliginous display, even if no one else besides you and he are here. He signs again, though you both know that you know what he’d signed the first time. He signs extra slowly this time. He’s doing it just to rile you up and you know it. It doesn’t stop it from working though.

 

“Really, you must warn a troll before striking them so brazenly. Though I’m not encouraging violence by any means, it’s just-” 

 

Your palmhusk chimes. 

 

“I am  _ not _ reading your crude GIFs I just know you have sent me something completely appalling,” You finally settle on saying. Then chitter in irritation at the inevitable punny sign involving pails. He thrums annoyingly back at you. 

 

In your pacing and, not ranting, you never stoop so low as to rant,  _ never _ . Spirited one sided discussions you have frequently. Yes. During that though the two of you hadn’t actually been walking, the dream bubble melted away from the previous mish mash of Alternian forest and Beforan beach into a fully Alternian setting. The lighting was pleasantly early evening. There were of course no other creatures, you’d nearly stopped taking note of it. Nearly. 

 

Kurloz gestured expansively at a truly grand looking edifice. You examine it as best you can from the outside. The doorway is imposingly large, extravagantly so. It is carved directly into the rock of the canyon you are in. Or is is a gully? You table that thought for later. There are musclebeast statues carved such that they look as if they are supporting the roof. It is absurd and also a bit impressive.

 

“Those musclebeasts could not possibly be accurate representations of their Alternian species,” you tell Kurloz in concern. They are far too overly muscled. You deliberately keep your eyes away from him though you see the motion of his hands as he signs. 

 

His claws tangle in your sweater as he swats at your side. You know you blush tellingly as you slap at his hand, your own claws scratching at his ridiculous skele-suit. He chitter-thrums at you. It’s  _ incredibly _ frustrating. 

 

You proceed to have one of the most memorable pitch dates of your death. You most assuredly do not email yourself the chat log for rereading. (You’re lying, you do and you thrum-chitter annoyingly yourself whenever you look at the stupid gifs and stupid emoticon faces and stupid quirk and remember the way he’d signed ‘thanks for the date kan’ knowing full well how much you hated that nickname.)

 

Your name is Kankri Vantas and you’re vow of celibacy has led to some truly dreadful hate dates. 

 

You’re fucking delighted.

  
  



End file.
